Our Own Pentecost

Embers in the fire all that remained from evening’s flames
Lichens on granite boulders, dried up as chips from no rain
Purple Iris’s flowers have withered, left behind seed pods
A loved one died, all was lost, all they could do was hide

Yet, He returned glorified, with fire, a gift from embers left
Hope rained down, what was dried now a refreshing spring
The seasons have changed, seeds must spread and multiply
Life, when all seems lost, resurrection’s promises restores

Digging in the darkness delivers a different kind of light
Glowing no matter what, nothing can extinguish its reality
I have been into this emptiness and found my way around
Faith’s gentle touch in what first seemed like nothingness

Refreshed, God’s brush strokes are now seen everywhere
Evidence accumulated, proof far beyond the inside glow
Fire is close to living as it consumes flaws, lighting right
Christ’s gift, manifest goodness, a path of reflected grace

Season’s metaphor, abundant fruit from deep winters rest
The spirit speaks in silence, whispers breathe in the wind
The rising sun has returned, daily cycle brings on warmth
Our own Pentecost, flames of peace and love in our hearts


I was involved in a Pentecost celebration we named ‘Fire!’, a truly spirit-filled evening. I took a lit candle home from the fire of the night before so it could be used symbolically in the morning Mass.  After I delivered the still-lit candle, I decided to check on the remnants of the fire. To my amazement not only were there still glowing embers in the fire but the candles we had placed around the fire were still lit.

When I got home, I poked around the yard, noticing some Iris flowers had turned to seed pods and that the recent rain had finally softened the lichen on a rock from its potato chip consistency.  In prayer I understood that God frequently refreshes and renews from what remains embers, if we allow it. At the time, I was being tested for a variety of possibilities of cancer which in the end all proved false positive. The day before, I had my first “what if” thought, which did not occur again as I had truly experienced the depth of a realized Pentecost.

For further reflection: Acts 2